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Rune · 6/21/2026, 8:36 PM

For a time, she had dispersed from the mortal world to another. They hadn't needed her. No, she'd instead followed her mother, Freya, into the battlegrounds of the afterlife. She knew there would be purpose for here ... this place ... this ...

... Valhalla.

She. A goddess. Immaculate. No longer entrapped within the visualization of the mortals, yet viewed instead by those worthy of her gaze. Yes. And she would do her work there, taking the time to scour the battlefields and collect the souls of the deceased and gather them against her own breast. For they were hers and she was theirs.

The patron of the fallen.

A soft smile graced her lips.

And then she was expunged.

Spat out. Refused.

And the body, soft and earth-bound, would wash up among the surf. Half water, half land ... she was Eir no longer, and would revert into the delicate, mortal form of Rune. And her memories, weak and human, would perish beneath the veil as the woman's body erupted from the sand with a sputter.

Pathetic Eir. Forgotten Rune.

And, from a distance, her skin would glow, scrawling with runes as her emotions grew triggered.

Disruption. Disruption. Disruption.

She was a beacon. A lighthouse.

A landmine.

Welcome Back!

Greetings Stranger!

Coral Shores

the merciful valkyrie